Steve pokes his head back into the dining room. “What’s so funny?” Now I see the craziest thing yet. Between the dining room and kitchen opening there are beads. Like, hippie beads. Hanging floor to ceiling. Multicolored. WTF is right. How does he not get tangled in them? I start to ask, but snort a fresh batch of howling laughter. THERE ARE HIPPIE BEADS IN THE DINING ROOM!
Steve looks at the beads in his hands, which he must hold to keep from being strangled by them. He smiles and his cheeks get pinker. “Yeah, these are kind of silly, but I never come in this room. I guess we should take these down some time. I never really liked them.”
I am holding my stomach and Steve smiles, as I try to regain composure. “You silly girl. I’ll bring in the food.” He disappears into the hookah tent. Hahahahaha…..
We sit down to eat and I am having a difficult time focusing on what Steve is saying. This room has less pictures of Noreen, but I see a display of three hand painted teapots on the hutch. Of course they all sport dragonflies drawn with varying skill levels. They must be the ones they made on the family pottery outing. Megan was little in that picture, and one of them looks quite childlike and cute. And another looks like a blind monkey painted it. I spit rice all over the table, and erupt into another round of giggles.
“I wish you would share what’s funny.”
I proceed to clean up the rice shrapnel and silently vow to work on behaving myself.
“I am trying to tell you about my sister calling today.” Steve rarely loses his patience, but of course normally I am extremely stable and even tempered. This has to stop. Soon I will be throwing up and falling on my ass—like Claire.
“I’m sorry. I just feel a little jumpy.” I shake my leg and try to contain the ants in my pants. Oh no, that’s not a funny clichéd saying anymore. “What happened with your sister?” I put down my fork and stare intently to make sure I don’t miss anything, but I still squirm a little.
Steve sighs and puts down his napkin. “Eve is moving to Richmond. Isn’t that great news?”
Eve is Steve’s only sibling. She’s a few years older than Steve. Her husband died of a heart attack about eight years ago, and she STILL isn’t okay. The fact that Steve AND his sister lost their spouses is not something I like to dwell on. Oh, and by the way, both of their parents died in a car accident. I glance above Steve’s head for the black cloud.
Seriously, how is he always so freaking positive? Sometimes I want to check to see if he has any robot parts. I haven’t met Eve, but apparently she thinks it’s “a little soon” for Steve to be dating. Awesome news. “That’s awesome news, Honey.” I smile and attempt to look sincere.
Steve reaches across the table and takes my hand. “She’s my only sibling and she’s had a tough time. Now that the boys are grown, she’s lonely in New Jersey.” He studies my expression. “I’m sure you girls will hit it off. She’s lots of fun.”
I am pretty sure he is remembering how she was fun more than eight years ago. Or when they were children. Suddenly I feel a little sleepy and woozy. “We can go shopping…”
Steve lunges forward and grabs me. “Rebecca, are you alright?”
I don’t know why he keeps asking that. Oops, I think it’s because I almost slid off my chair and smashed my face into the glass top dining table. Did I mention how comfortable these chairs are? “Maybe it’s time to go home.” I blink my eyes hard and sit up straighter in the impossibly rigid metal chair. “Is it getting darker in here?”
Steve jumps up and comes to my side. “Did you take anything to try to stay awake today?” He eyes me suspiciously.
My brain is sort of working but my body isn’t cooperating. “I think I need to rest a little before I can drive…”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Oh my God, what was that noise? Where the hell am I? It’s dark and I’m lying on a brick, but someone covered me with a...whew, that’s right. I’m at Steve’s house. But what the hell am I lying on? I rub the surface. Too smooth to be a brick. I slowly sit up and fumble for the lamp, which I can now make out in the darkness. I switch it on and…oh, of course. The cozy orange couch. I rub my neck. Oww…what time is it? I squint my eyes but my contact lenses are glued to my inner lids. If I rub them around too much they will pop out and...
That’s nice. Now I have one lens in my eye, feeling like a piece of wood, and the other shriveled up in my hand like a dirty raisin. Where’s my purse? I manage to stand up on wobbly legs and turn around…ahhh...Noreen is staring at me in the darkness, and so are the happy, multiple legged couple in the jar on the piano. My heart is pounding. In this picture she’s holding a pumpkin, and she’s dressed as a fucking spider. This whole place reminds me of Halloween. I spot my purse over by the piano and drag myself over there to find my phone and the time.
Great. I have ten missed calls and who knows how many texts. There’s one from Steve from ten o’clock. Why was he texting me from the same house? Shit, it’s one thirty-seven in the morning now. I shake my head and squeeze my empty eye shut while trying to squint the eye that has any chance of seeing.
“We need to talk about this tomorrow, but you need to start getting proper rest. I’m worried about you. You fell asleep on the couch, and I didn’t want to wake you. If you get this before morning, DO NOT drive home. I’ll be up early, so you’ll have plenty of time to get home and ready for work. I love you, silly girl.”
That is the longest text Steve has ever sent me. Usually it’s a few words. I try to scroll through the other messages, but my eye sockets are screaming. I need to see if I have any saline and pop this stupid lens in my eye and get the hell out of here. I am not going to get any more sleep on this ironing board of a sofa, and I don’t want to wake Steve.
I sneak into the hall bath and manage to get my eyes under control. My eye makeup is a smeared mess, but I’m just going home. I grab my purse again and make sure I have my keys before I head out. I am so sleepy, but I think I’ll make it home. I have one more energy drink in my purse, but I have to draw the line. If I take that I am going to start twitching like a crazed junkie.
I make it to the car in the pitch dark with the light of my phone. I get in the car and quietly close the door. I take a deep breath and begin to review the night. I love Steve very much, but I don’t know if I can get over that house. Or the way he constantly talks about Noreen. Maybe I’m just fooling myself.
I pull out of the long gravel driveway and onto the deserted street. I better pull over to make sure I have my address in the GPS properly. While doing that I take a look at my other messages. My mother called. I wonder what she wants. Probably to discuss our Memorial Day weekend family plans. Violet. Probably has some gossip or wants to know more about Luke.
Uh oh, Luke CALLED. Thank God my ringer was off. I wonder if Steve looked at my phone. Tomorrow I’ll check my e-mail. He probably just sent that manuscript and wanted to follow up. I can’t stop thinking about Luke. Maybe I was an idiot to break up with him. He was fun. Amazing in bed. He treated me like a queen. Didn’t he? I just got spooked and thought I was stuck, so I ended it. We were together for FIVE years.
I pull into my neighborhood, and grab my phone. I park in front of my condo and text Gina again. I know she’ll be sleeping, but I’m never going to get to sleep if I don’t get some of this off my chest.
“Have you ever gone back to an ex?” I regret typing those word as soon as I hit send.
I barely have my key in the door before my phone buzzes. Shit. I hope Steve didn’t wake up and find me gone. He’s going to be mad in the morning anyway. I glance at it and try to focus. I’m exhausted and I feel sick and…
“What are you talking about at this hour of the night? You’re not with that hunky Latin guy?”
Gina is awake at this hour? I write back.
“No. Of course not. I didn’t think you would get this until morning. Weird night at Steve’s. Will talk tomorrow.”
“Okay, Sweetie. I’m a little busy anyway. Wink, wink…”
“Are you texting me while in bed with a man?”
“I don’t know, maybe…”
“Please tell me you’re not…”
“No, that was earlier. Thanks for the fix up. Wait, I’m the one who’s with one of your exes, not you! Hahahahaha…..”
Well, I guess Tony got some action tonight.
“Eww. I’m happy for you, but I don’t need the details.”
“I’m sorry. Talk tomorrow? I’ll bring coffee.”
Just the thought of coffee makes me want to hurl. I may have to join a twelve step program to stop, like AA or glue sniffers anonymous.
I drag myself to bed and I don’t even put on a pretty nightie. Blue and Jewel circle me with questioning eyes.
“Yes, Mommy was an asshole tonight.”
Poor Steve. He is only trying to do what’s right. Take the dog, be happy about his sister. Preserve his dead wife’s memory. Maybe I’m just not a good enough person for him. But seriously, what’s next? “Love, I hope you don’t mind, but a Martian is coming to live with me, and he’s bringing his pet muskrat.”
I roll over and snuggle up with my kitties. I can almost guarantee Luke and Steve will be riding a Martian and a muskrat in my dreams tonight.
CHAPTER NINE
“I don’t think you’re getting crow’s feet. Maybe a smaller bird…” Gina presses one finger to her lips.
“Like a hummingbird!” Claire yells out.
“Hummingbirds are really more like bugs. They’re so tiny…”
“They are technically birds, so they must have feet…” Claire stops talking and watches me bang my head on my desk.
Gina gives Claire a warning look, and says, “Sorry. We’re just trying to say you don’t look that bad. And lack of sleep isn’t what causes crow’s feet. It’s just the aging process.” Claire now glares at Gina, who winces.
I swipe my hand across my desk and my mirrored compact flies into the trash can.
“Oh, let me get that.” Gina reaches and I stop her.
“No, that’s where it belongs,” I reply.
Claire sits down and folds her hands in her lap. “You should really go home sick and try to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”
Gina sits next to Claire and nods her head. “She’s right. This is bad, and I don’t understand the problem. I thought you and Steve were happy and everything was peachy.”
I slump in my chair. Steve called this morning and was quite upset with me. Well, as upset as Steve gets, but I don’t blame him. My behavior is out of control. I just didn’t want to tell him that I couldn’t stay in that house another minute. “Everything was great, but that’s only because I was avoiding the big, ugly truth.”
Gina leans forward and narrows her eyes. “Which is…?”
“Steve is still in love with his dead wife.”
Claire raises her voice an octave. “That is not true!”
I hold my head. “Jeez, Claire. Inside voice!” She’s screeching like Bridezilla again. “Noreen had red hair. And last year he told me that he likes that I’m dying my hair a reddish shade to hide the grey, instead of my natural black.”
Claire lets out a long breath. “Your hair is just a tint of red. Dark red. It’s barely even red. Besides, Steve loves you. And maybe he does like red hair. That doesn’t mean he wants you to be like her. From what you’ve told me you’re not like her at all. I agree he has avoided his house and the work he should be doing…” I raise my eyebrows and she continues. “…but he is committed to you. And it isn’t like she can come back.”
“I am so sick of hearing that crap. So what? If he WISHES she could that’s the same damn thing. I want a man who is mine. I don’t want to share him, even if it’s with a memory.” I pause and fight the urge to break something. “I know everyone thinks that makes me a terrible person, but I can’t help it. I’m sorry she died. I truly am. For everyone involved. She had a daughter, for God’s sake. But I don’t think it’s too much to ask that I don’t have pictures of her staring at me from every corner of the house. And tonight, I am dying my hair black!”
“So much for inside voice.” Gina reflexively puts up her hands to protect herself from my wrath.
Claire adds, “Ooh, I don’t think you should color your own hair. Wait until you can get an appointment. Also, your natural hair color isn’t black. I’m sure it’s dark brown. You don’t want to look like one of those Goth girls.” Claire wrings her hands and continues. “Anyway, we’re concerned that you think the solution lies with your smoking hot ex.” The judgmental twins peer at me.
“I am not going to do anything with Luke, but his return is bad timing. Seeing him reminds me of a happier, easier period of my life. He wasn’t serious about a commitment, but then neither was I.”
“Are you now? Because if you’re not, you are unjustly making this Steve’s fault.” Claire taps her perfectly manicured nails on my desk.
“I do want a commitment.” As I say these words, even I realize I may be full of shit. “I’m just so confused. And now the dog and his sister! I have to SLEEP there this weekend.”
Gina jumps in. “Go-backs are always a mistake. It’s a roller coaster to hell. I did it with both of my husbands. It’s never good. You romanticize about the past when the present is kicking your ass, but the past is not the solution.”
“Have you heard from Luke?” Claire won’t let this subject drop.
“No, I haven’t.” The lie slips off my tongue so easily. I got a text from him this morning telling me that it was great to see me and he’s looking forward to being friends. And he is going to send his manuscript soon.
“That’s good, then. Maybe that will blow over.” Claire pats my hand and says, “Just go home and rest and everything will be better—”
My door flies open.
“My doctor said my chafing problem is a DIRECT result of this cheap toilet paper. We may as well be wiping with the pages of the books we publish. And you still haven’t fixed this problem!” A sweaty and heavy breathing Harriet points her finger at me.
Obviously Maintenance has not made the new toilet paper a priority. I jump and yell back, “I am taking care of this myself!” Claire and Gina watch with their mouths hanging open while I grab my purse and barrel past Harriet, which due to Harriet’s size, is no small feat.
With my last ounce of adrenaline, I drive seventy miles an hour to the corner grocery store and buy as much toilet paper as will fit in my sports car. The brave clerk tries to suggest that I should go to Costco for bulk discounts. I resist the urge to punch him, and peel out of the parking lot, now realizing I have a delivery problem with the quantity I have shoved into the little vehicle. Fuck it. I will carry just enough to replace the rolls in the ladies’ room.
I run back into the building and come to a screeching halt. Shit, you need a key to do this. As if the employees are going to steal the sandpaper to scratch up their asses at home.
I peer into the hallway and walk to the reception desk. I slow down and smooth my skirt when I see people staring. Samantha, the new receptionist, studies me over the top of her reading glasses. “Can I help you, Rebecca?”
Moments later I am running back to the ladies’ room with the key. I think my crazed look told her all she wanted to know about my request.
My phone is beeping (I can’t listen to buzzing anymore without thinking of bees). Probably Gina or Claire calling to see if I have flushed my head down the toilet. No, it’s Luke. Shit. I need to take care of this job first. I shove the phone in the little pocket in the front of my skirt and proceed to wrangle the toilet paper holder loose. There. I just need to do these stalls and…SPLAT! Oh, no. Dear God, NO! I look in the toilet and my phone is floating in it, mocking me for turning into a stark raving, toilet paper wielding lunatic. I would like to swish Harriet’s head in the toilet…
“What are you doing?” Gina has appeared by my side and takes the toilet paper out of my hand, looks at my frozen face, and then into the toilet. “Oh, shit.�
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Claire joins her and adds, “What? There’s shit in the toilet? Gross. Just flush it. Why are we in here anyway?”
I point and they both discover the ugly problem. Gina reaches in and pulls it out. She tries to turn it on and Claire snatches it. “No, don’t turn it on. If she’s going to save it, she needs to put it in a bag of rice.”
Gina and Claire proceed to argue about the rice and whether or not it works. I grab my phone and run. “I am going to the cafeteria to see if they have rice. Wasn’t lunch today something Asian?” I am half way down the hall and they clearly don’t hear me anymore. Samantha watches me whizz by and raises an eyebrow. It’s bad when the HR person loses her last fruit loop.
I remember I have rice at home, and I take a detour to the parking lot and jump back in the car. Whew, my purse is still in the back seat. Claire will shut down my computer and lock my door. I’ll text her. Wait, no. Now I won’t be able to see Luke’s message, either. I will check my e-mail when I get home. Maybe he sent the files. I am not going back to that asylum today. I will text Tim…NO, I WON’T. FUCK. For a second I actually can’t remember how I can communicate with him without my cell phone. E-mail. I will e-mail the office when I get home. After the phone is in its little rice emergency room bed. Whew. I need to calm the fuck down. I have always been known for my peaceful demeanor and my level-headed nature. If my mother saw me right now, she would lock me in a closet until I came to my senses.
I pull into my parking spot and glance at myself in the mirror. I look like I have walking pneumonia or malaria. It’s also especially warm today and I am pouring sweat. I drag myself to my front door and find a note.
“COME TO THE POOL”
Violet. It’s only mid-May, but since we don’t have a lifeguard at our neighborhood pool, they open it as soon as it gets hot enough. Violet has only lived here for a year, but I don’t remember her at the pool much last summer. We’ve become friends, but we don’t do anything together besides talk at home. She’s a good neighbor, but sometimes a little too serious. She’s been in the US for about five years after spending time in various European countries, and I think that is part of her attraction to Luke. He’s more exotic than the typical Richmond man.
Afraid of Her Shadow Page 7
